Castle of Glass
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Merida has always believed in magic. She's just never believed in lunatics. Can this strange boy protect her, as he is now forced to do? And can he ever be anything more to her than a mere crack in her castle of glass? Rated T just in case. Post-movies.
1. Chapter 1

_**Castle of Glass**_

**A/N: OKAY DON'T HATE ME I KNOW I HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO JUST GIVE ME TWO SECONDS JUST TWO SECONDS OKAY **

**I know I said I would post the sequel to Starlight, Star Bright shortly, and I will. But I'm trying to hit at least 15k on my Camp Nano before I do so, and I did not write this just today. In fact, I was sifting through old documents to avoid writing and I found this one. I showed it to my friend, who said I should post it. So yes. That is why this was posted, okay? If you want to send me hatemail for posting this before SSB's sequel, feel free to do so. Just don't send me questions asking where that particular story is, now that I have already explained.**

**Onto the next big thing! This is my very first Brave fanfiction that's been posted, so I hope nobody minds if I went a little overboard on the Scottish slang. I'm not Scottish, so I have no idea if they actually use any of these terms. I know that when Merida speaks in this story, she says "ah" but in her head, she says "I". That's because a lot of people can't hear their or others' accents when they've grown up hearing them. So. And if anybody who actually is from Scotland can tell me how they speak there, that'd be helpful. Please give me feedback? (But, to my loyal readers of the To Be Loved the Way You Love Me AU, I'm at 13k! Just 2k more and the next story will be posted!) **

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I have always believed in magic. My mother would tell me tales about ancient kings and queens when I was little; talking late into the night, she would weave a tale that would keep me wide awake for hours to come.

Myth and legend sprang up around me in the most unexpected places. The highlands was a perfect spot for the strange and unexpected to happen at any given time, but I guess the person who found what happened most unexpected was me.

My daily horse ride turned into an adventure I had never known when I notched an arrow in my bow, gritted my teeth and readied myself for a shot. I had no targets to shoot at anymore; they had become so filled with arrows by now that I couldn't fit any more in them. I pleased myself by shooting tree trunks instead, always in the spot I'd imagined they would go.

The arrow I'd just notched hit the correct trunk, of course, right in the middle. I allowed myself a tiny smile, notched another arrow and aimed it at the next tree. I could tell we would pass it before my arrow could hit it, but I tried it anyway. I like a challenge.

What I wasn't prepared for, though, was for something blue and white and brown to come shooting down in front of me just as I let fly my arrow. I wasn't prepared for my arrow to pierce whatever it was instead of the tree. Angus stopped short, going skidding on the damp grass.

"Oh!" I yelled as he bucked me off and I did a face plant in the grass. Raising my head and wiping the moss out of my eyes, I realized that the blue, white and brown object that had messed up my shot wasn't a thing at all – it was a person. A white-haired boy, to be exact, blood running down the side of his face, the arrow sticking straight out of his left shoulder.

"Are you okay?" My voice was a little higher than I was used to as I knelt down next to him, one hand on Angus' nose, trying to calm him. He didn't seem too keen on the stranger's smell. "Ah'm so sorry, I didnae even see you there…where did you come from?"

His eyes fluttered open long enough for me to see that they were bright, sparkling blue, but then they closed again, and I was willing to bet that his impact with the ground had knocked him out.

"Oh, no…" I mumbled hefting him onto my shoulder. I guess I expected him to be heavy, because he was pretty tall, but he was surprisingly light and easy to maneuver onto Angus' saddle. The horse didn't make any more protests against him, for which I was grateful. I tugged on Angus' reins and he set off at a gallop, but riding with an unconscious person behind you was harder than it looked. I had stirrups and a saddle, but the strange boy behind me had nothing to keep him on Angus' back. I just had to keep glancing back and making sure he was still there, and this made the ride a lot harder than usual.

When I reached the castle, I put Angus in his stable, picked the boy up and carried him bridal style into the castle. Like I said, he was light and it wasn't that hard to carry him. I got a few weird looks from some of the servants, but nobody actually came right out and said anything to me. I worried that maybe I was jostling the stranger and worsening the arrow wound and then, suddenly, it occurred to me that I probably should have taken the arrow out of his shoulder before I came charging in here with his prone body in my arms. This thought made me uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping and trying to take it out wasn't a preferred one; I was scared of leaving the actual head in his skin.

The sight of the medical door was a welcome sight, and I didn't even bother knocking before bursting in. "Aileen!" I called out the familiar name of the castle healer, holding up the strange boy for her to see. "I need your help, Aileen!"

"What's wrong, Princess, dear?" Aileen had been the castle healer since I was a kid, and she had taken more arrowheads out of my skin than I could count. I was sure she'd be able to help.

"Aileen, he's got an arrow in his shoulder, and he was bleeding from his head when ah got to him. Ah'm no sure if that was from his fall or what, but—what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Princess, dear, are you feeling alright?" she asked me concernedly, putting a hand to my forehead.

"Of course," I responded, a little bit offended by her concerned expression. "It's no me that's injured, it's him, he had a pretty bad fall, and ah accidentally shot him with an arrow—

"Did you eat anything strange before bed last night?"

"This isnae about me—

"Did you have some of the king's private reserves again?"

"What? No, ah—

"Are you sure, dear? Because last time you—

"Will you _listen_?!" I yelled, practically stamping my foot in frustration. "This isnae about me! This is about him!" I pointed to the boy in my arms angrily, trying to draw her attention with him.

"Princess, sweetie, are you sure—

"Why do you keep asking me if ah'm feeling alright?" I demanded.

"Sweetheart—

"Aileen…." I dragged out the word, waiting for her to confess.

And she reached out a hand and rested it right on top of mine. Her fingers went completely through the boy in my arms. "Princess, there's nothing there."

"Wh-what?" I nearly dropped the boy, I was so surprised. I deposited him gently onto the bed, just in case my strength failed within the next few moments. "But…but he's right here, look!" I put a hand on his stomach, and he shifted slightly, as if sensing my touch. "Cannae you see him?"

"Princess, there isnae anything." She put a hand down on the bed to emphasize her point. No, the bed wasn't empty, but she didn't touch the boy; her hand went through his shoulder.

"But…but…" I stumbled backward a bit, feeling a sudden urge to run away on Angus and shoot as many tree trunks as I possibly could. "But he's right there!" I pointed again to the bed, feeling as if the very ground was tilting beneath me.

"Are you feeling alright?" she repeated, concern beginning to color her face.

"Give me your hand."

"What? Why?"

"Aileen, please."

"Princess, it's the ultimate sign of disrespect to—

I hated using my authority on the servants, but for the first time, I did. "Aileen, ah order you to give me your hand."

She gently allowed her rough and callused hand to take mine. I set her hand right on the boy's chest, hoping she would be able to feel his heartbeat, or give up the terrible joke she was probably pulling.

She shook her head wordlessly. "Princess, there's nothing there."

"But…his heart! It's…he's right there!" I moved my own hand up to his chest as I spoke, and I realized that Aileen was right in at least one respect: _his heart wasnae beating_. I mean, I literally had my hand on his chest and I could feel nothing. I frantically moved my hand around a bit, but…nothing. There was nothing.

"Och!" I cried, stepping quickly away from him.

"Princess, it's alright—

"His heart…it's…it's…he's _dead_!"

"Princess…"

"Aileen, ah think he's dead!"

"Princess, ah'm…er…sure he's okay," she replied soothingly, but I knew she was just humoring me: she didnae look very sincere about it.

"I donnae understand how you cannae see him…" I mumbled under my breath, practically wringing my hands in my distress. I didnae even know somebody could wring their hands in distress, but I was doing it right then. If Aileen couldnae see him, then what was I supposed to do?

I was normally a levelheaded person, even in a crisis, but I donnae think I would have accomplished anything if my mum hadn't burst in right then, leading Hamish by the hand. She appeared ready to scold him, but for the moment, she was holding back. Hamish hopped up next to Aileen on one of the beds and held up his hand for her to inspect. "I got a splinter," he informed her, as if she couldnae see that for herself.

"Yes…I see, dear," she patted his red curls soothingly, but her eyes were still fixated on me.

"Mum." I took my mum's hand and gently tugged her away from Hamish. "Mum, ah need your help…"

"With what, Merida?" she seemed a wee bit distracted as I led her over to the boy's bed, but her eyes widened when she saw him. And I instantly knew that she had seen him, because, unlike Aileen, she didnae look ready to ask me what she was supposed to be seeing, or anything stupid like that. She gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Merida…what happened to him?"

"Ah shot him with mah arrow," I admitted quietly. "He just sorta came out o' nowhere. I couldnae help it, I had already drawn it back…I didnae want to risk getting it oot, and hurtin' him worse…ah just left it in."

"Merida, he's _bleeding_."

As if I couldnae see that for myself. "Ah know. He…he fell after I shot him, and the impact with the ground must've…well…" I still couldnae wrap my mind around the fact that I had killed somebody. "Mum, his heart…it's…" And instead of saying it, I just took her hand, like I had done with Aileen, who was now looking terrified for the both of us and our sanity. I placed her hand over his heart and Mum gasped again when she realized the truth.

"Oh, Merida…" she pressed her fingers to her lips in horror.

"Ah didnae mean to, Mum," I said quietly. "Ah really didnae…"

"Merida, it's alright," she patted my back soothingly, but she still looked horrified. "I donnae believe it was entirely your fault. Look at him, he must have been badly hurt beforehand…"

And then, even as she spoke, trying to comfort me, the boy did the most unexpected thing I could possibly think of, under the circumstances. He drew in a long breath, opened his eyes and sat up.

And I did something unexpected, too: I backed away again and screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Castle of Glass_  
**

**A/N: Well, I wasn't terribly fond of this fic, but you guys seemed to like it, so have another chapter xD I'm not sure I'm keeping Jack IC, or Merida, for that matter, but I don't know. **

* * *

"Merida, it's alright, I…"

"HIS HEART!" I yelled, feeling sure my own was about to beat right out of my chest. "His heart wasnae beating, and now this!"

"Please stop!" The actually _not-_dead boy cried, jumping up from the bed like all was perfectly fine. "I didn't mean to scare you or anything, but—hey, where am I?" he reached up with his arrow-ridden shoulder to scratch the back of his head, before wincing suddenly and putting a hand on said shoulder. "Ow…" he looked down at it curiously and reached to pull it out.

"You donnae want to do that," Mum warned him, stepping forward and suddenly taking control of the situation. I could tell she was just as scared and shocked as I was, but she wasnae showing it. "You could get the head stuck in your shoulder and—

"I'll be fine," he replied, reaching up and beginning to slowly, painfully extract it. And then he stopped, wincing a little. "Okay, maybe I _won't _be."

His face was young and childish, suggesting he couldn't be older than fourteen, but he had the voice of a twenty-year-old, and the eyes of someone much older.

"You're supposed to be dead!" I cried, taking another couple steps backward. "What are you doing up and walking around, you're…you're like a corpse!"

"Merida!" Mum turned swiftly to glare at me and the boy rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

"In case you're wondering, I am a corpse, thank you," he scowled a little at me, trying to move his arms but being hindered by the pain of the arrow. I still felt guilty for shooting him, but it made me feel better that he had scared the living daylights out of _me,_ too; at least now we were even.

"What do you mean?" Mum's skirts rustled as she brushed by him, and she suddenly shuddered with cold, pulling away. A trail of frost clung to her dress.

"I mean that I—oh no." His face paled suddenly. "No, no, _no_…where's my staff?!"

"Staff?" Mum questioned, raising an eyebrow and turning swiftly to look at me.

I shrugged. There hadnae been a staff when I'd first seen him.

"Yes, a staff!" he replied, beginning to pace around the hospital looking for it. He checked every side table he could, but of course, he didnae find it. "Long, thin stick of wood, you know? Should have a kind of G shape at the top?"

Mum shook her head, and I shook mine, too.

"I'm sorry," Mum continued in her queen voice. "We havenae seen anything of the likes of which you have described. It might be in the forest, where my daughter, Merida, shot you, but—

"Oh, that wasn't Trick?" The corpse's eyebrows flew up. "I thought it must have been, but…hmm…" his lips twisted into an expression of confusion. "Right. Thanks for your hospitality, I gotta go get my staff." he nodded in our direction, heading for the door.

"Wait, wait, wait." I planted myself firmly in front of the door. "You cannae just leave!"

"According to her…" he jerked his head in Mum's direction. "…You shot me with an arrow, so I don't see why I should listen to you. Let me by."

"I have questions for you!" I nearly stamped my foot again, spreading my arms wide to prevent him from leaving.

"I have questions about why you shoot random strangers for sport—

"That arrow was an accident!" I retorted, feeling my face flush. "I didnae expect a floating corpse boy to spring oot from behind the bushes—

"F-floating corpse?" he sputtered, his own face gaining a darker tint; but instead of turning red, he turned purple. "I don't know who you're insulting, Carrot Top, but it clearly isn't me! And I did not _spring_ out of the bushes—

"Well, that's what it looked like from my end of the bow!" I retorted. "And Carrot Top?! Pick some new material, I've been teased aboot my hair _already_—

"Merida. Boy." My mother cut smoothly through our words, putting a hand on each of our shoulders. "Enough."

The boy glared at me for a second or too longer before returning his gaze to Mum. "Look, all I want is my staff back, okay? Just give it to me and I'll be out of your hair."

"We donnae where your staff is," Mum admitted quietly, running a soothing hand along his back. "But Merida may be able to help you find it. It was she who shot you back there in the forest, you might have accidentally dropped it back there. That's my best guess, at least."

"Oh, good," the boy visibly relaxed. It was clear how vulnerable he felt without his staff in his hands. "Well, then, I'll just go find it."

"You could get lost in there," Mum informed him carefully.

"I don't think that'd be a problem."

"My daughter, Merida, knows the forest like no one else," Mum added swiftly. "I think it'd be best if you took her…"

She wasnae even paying attention when I tried to frantically shake my head at her, silently communicating. But whatever I was trying to say without words, she clearly wasnae getting. I definitely didnae want to go anywhere with the white-haired bampot, but it appeared that, to the forest, I was going.

Corpse Boy tried to reject Mum's attempts, but after a bit of negotiating, he just gave in, and I led him back to Angus' stables.

"We're taking a horse?" he asked, and I thought he wrinkled his nose a bit at the idea.

"Do you have a problem with it?" I demanded, unlatching Angus and opening his stall door.

"No…I just…don't think we need it."

"And what do you think we're going to do?" I asked heatedly. "_Fly_ there?"

"Well, I was planning on it." He wasnae even using a hint of sarcasm right now; the look on his pale face was completely innocent and my jaw dropped. He really _was_ radge.

"You…you…_what_?"

"I don't know if the wind would recognize me without my staff, though…" he added worriedly. "So maybe a horse is the most promising way to go right now…"

"What did you just say?" I demanded of him, taking a step closer to him in the dark stall.

He jumped back a bit, like my sudden closeness made him nervous, but before he did, my hand brushed by his. His skin was so breathtakingly cold, even though it was early autumn. Perhaps it was winter in his country by now.

"I said I don't know if the wind would recognize me without my staff," he repeated.

"When does the wind ever recognize anyone?" I asked, with an increasing feeling that I would never quite understand his thought processes.

"Well, it recognizes _me_," he said defensively. "I've just never tried to fly without my staff before, so I wouldn't know."

"You…" I struggled to spit out exactly what I was thinking. More than anything, I wanted to run back to the castle or gallop away on Angus as fast as I could, yet I knew that, whatever my mum wanted, my mum usually got. And she wanted me to help this boy find his staff. "I…let's…let's get this over with," I muttered, hitching myself up onto Angus' back. I stroked his mane, speaking to him in a calm, soothing voice.

"This boy is gonna get on your back now," I coaxed him gently. "He's a bit radge, but he's got to find his stupid staff, so just…keep your head up, he'll be gone soon, Angus…"

The boy awkwardly climbed onto Angus' back, scooting as far as he could away from me on the horse, his knee poking into my back.

"Is this your first horse ride?" I asked him, turning to look at him. He was staring down at Angus' legs with an expression of wonder.

He nodded in response to my question, putting one hand on Angus' side. The horse nickered suddenly and nervously, trying to instinctively jerk away and I knew why when the boy took his hand away, there was a trail of frost clinging to the hair.

"What…what…who are you?" I demanded, staring up at him, unsure whether I should be awed and impressed and add this to my growing mental list of reasons why he was crazy. "Is that _ice_?"

"If you can see me, you should know this by now," he replied quietly. "I thought for sure you might, since you looked at me when I woke up, but…" he blew out a small breath, his voice suddenly losing that cocky edge of arrogance that so annoyed me. Instead, he sounded small and almost…vulnerable. "You didn't."

"Obviously," I responded. "What does seeing you have to do with knowing who you are?"

"You have to believe in me to see me," he replied quietly. "And to believe in me, you kind of have to know who I am."

"Um…" It was official: he was _so_ weird.

"I'm Jack Frost," he added for explanation. "And, if you don't mind, I really need my staff so I can get out of here. Do you mind?"

"Wait, wait, wait." I unhooked my shoes from Angus' stirrups, jumped off his back and stared accusingly up at him. "You're Jack Frost? But you donnae look a thing like him!"

"Correction, I don't look a thing like how you _imagined_ him." His voice sounded a bit bitter.

"Last ah checked, the spirit of winter isnae a dead teenage boy."

"Well, I'm standing right in front of you," he snapped. "Obviously, a part of you _does_ believe me that I'm real, otherwise you wouldn't see me, even when I'm standing right here."

"But you…" I just stared at him for a second, my fingers entwining themselves, forming a tight ball. "Are you…are you kidding me?"

"No, I am not," he responded, rolling his eyes. "I really am Jack Frost, so can we please go now?"

"But Jack Frost is supposed to be old!"

"Why? Because they call me _Old Man_ Winter?"

"Yes!"

"What does it even matter to you anyway? Can't we find my staff?"

"It matters to me because…because apparently, ah'm speaking to _Jack Frost_!"

"So?!"

"You're a legend!"

This seemed to both shock and appease him; the anger in his eyes faded and suddenly he looked much happier, though disbelieving. "I'm a legend?" he asked, pleased. "Really?"

"Donnae get too pleased with yourself," I added. "You're still a right scunner in mah book."

Jack Frost? I stared at him, trying to picture it. The dark circles under his eyes, the thin lips, the pale face, high cheekbones, sparkling blue eyes, tousled white hair… he could cut it as Jack Frost, even if he wasn't what I'd expected. I hadnae expected Jack Frost to be attractive. Or irritating, I added quickly to myself.

His brows drew together, and he pursed the thin, pale lips in confusion. "What's a scunner?"

"It means you're annoying as hell," I responded.

He didnae look very contrite. "Being annoying as hell is my favorite pastime. Are we gonna find my staff or what?"

"Oh! Oh, yes. I just…I just forgot. You know, finding oot who ya are and all. Ah cannae believe that you're…that you're _him_!"

A smile flickered over his lips as I carefully tried to mount Angus again, a million thoughts swirling in my head. I tried to be skeptical, to think that he was just joking with me, but something insisted that he wasnae. He looked too honest, too sincere when he told me his true identity, and, furthermore, too sad when I didnae recognize him myself…

When I pulled myself up onto Angus' back and grabbed at his reins, I looked back at Jack, drinking in the sight of him again.

"Hey, Merida?" My name sounded so unfamiliar on his tongue, a whole new spin on it.

"Yes?"

He leaned forward, as if he was about to ask me something very serious, something life-changing. "Am I really legend?"

"You wish," I responded. "Now, if you'll stop askin' stupid questions, we can find that stick you're so worried about."

"Staff!" He corrected me indignantly.

"Right," I replied, turning to face straight ahead again so he wouldn't see the grin spreading over my face. "Right, let's go."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Cast****le**** of Glass**_

**A/N: ****SURPRISE**

**Yes, this is the surprise. Updating all of my eighteen in-progress fics at once. It was pretty crazy, but I did it, and it's here, and good day to you all! I had tons of fun doing this, so I hope you guys have tons of fun reading this!**

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Angus set off at a relatively ordinary pace, but it clearly wasnae ordinary for Jack: he grabbed at my waist, his blue eyes widening. Without thinking, I smacked his hand away. "I expect a marriage proposal and a date first," I told him.

He didnae laugh, but then, I guess it was a pressured moment for him. His face was even paler than it had been, and he looked frantically around for something else to grab on.

"Donnae go for the tail," I warned, turning in amusement to watch his attempts to stay on. "Angus hates that."

"I imagine all horses would," he finally regained the power of speech, clinging to the saddle, very near my arse. I glanced down at the pale fingers, silently warning him that if he moved so much as an inch closer to me, I was throwing him off.

"You seem to be doing better," I commented lightly, "but I thought you'd never ridden a horse before?"

"Well, I mean…I remember riding one in my human life, so the feeling is kind of familiar—

"Your human life?" I squawked, bringing Angus to a complete stop by jerking sharply on the reins.

"Before I became Jack Frost, I was a human," he explained wearily, as if the lines were rehearsed and said quite often. "I knew how to ride a horse in my human life, but I forgot a lot of stuff after I died, so—

"You're _dead_?" I screamed, and I would surely have gone plunging off Angus in shock if his hand hadnae still been resting on the saddle, steadying me automatically.

"I thought you knew that," Jack replied casually. "I mean, all that screaming in your palace about my heart, I thought you must have figured it out—

"I _killed_ you? Are you serious?"

"No! I died by falling into a frozen lake! The moon resurrected me from it, and I became Jack Frost! Does that answer your questions?"

"Maybe!" I shrieked. "But it brings up a whole host of new ones! I didnae realize that the moon rose the dead!"

"He doesn't—

"The moon has a gender now?" I demanded, slightly hysterically.

To my surprise and no a bit of anger, Jack burst into carrying, sparkling laughter that echoed around the forest, drowning out the sound of twittering birds. "It's the _man_ in the moon! The moon has always been a man!"

"Well, I'm really glad you cleared _that_ up!"

"Okay, we're getting nowhere," he announced, jumping off Angus' back and finding the grass. "Is this the place where you shot me?"

"I'm no finding a staff for a lunatic!"

"I'm not a lunatic!"

"Then why are you acting like it?"

"I don't know why you're having such a hard time accepting the man in the moon, considering you can see me!"

"It's no the moon that bothers me!" I replied, jumping off the horse's back as well, and giving him an absentminded pat on the nose. "It's the fact that I'm talking to a boy who's supposed to be dead!"

"Well, obviously, I'm not," he snapped. "Good, we got that settled, see? Now, is this where you shot me?"

"No, it has _no_ been settled!"

"Look, find me my staff, and we'll part ways and you can pretend that this was all a crazy dream, okay? Would that make you happy?"

"No, it wouldnae! What the hell _are_ you?"

"A dead teenage boy!" he howled. "A winter spirit! Call me whatever you like, I just want to get out of here! I have no _effing_ idea where I am!"

"Wait, you don't? I thought somebody who communicated with the moon—aren't dead people supposed to have infinite knowledge or—?"

"No, we _don't_," he snapped. "I just want to find my staff and get out of here, get back to my lake."

"Your lake? Is this the same one you died in?"

He nodded.

"That's kinda morbid."

He scowled. "I don't remember my home being your business. Now, is this where you shot me?"

"No, it was somewhere over there…" I pointed vaguely to the left. I distinctly heard him mutter a swear as he stalked over to the spot, brushing aside plants and peering between trees to find it.

"So, would you like to explain the whole 'not dead' thing to me?"

"The man in the moon – oof! – saw me when I – ouch! – died in the lake and he – _shit, oh my god, that hurt – _thought I was brave or something like that and – is that my—? No, that can't be – and so he revived me."

"How is drowning in a frozen lake brave?"

For an instant, Jack hesitated, leaning against a tree; ice flew out of his fingers, spreading up the tree trunk, uncontrolled and beautiful. Then he shrugged, evidently coming to a decision. "I'll never understand why the moon decides certain things," he replied vaguely, returning to his search with renewed vigor. "But I can guess. Now, is that it? Oh, no, that's just…God, I'm never gonna find it in this."

"What does your staff look like?" I ventured, kneeling down next to him. He looked surprised.

"You're helping me?" he asked.

I nodded. "You're in the kingdom of Dunbroch, by the way, in Scotland. We'll help you find a way out of here if you need it."

He looked still more surprised at this. "I…oh, I…thank you."

I couldnae help but feel sorry for him; his hopeless frustration, no matter what he felt it about, mirrored mine just three months ago, when I had turned Mum into a bear, when I had had no idea what to do or where to go. That was the first time in my life that I had ever felt, truly, like I had no leg to stand on. "You're welcome. Now, your staff? What does it look like?"

"Er…it's wooden," Jack replied cautiously. "And its got frost covering it…well, you'll be able to tell when you see it, I think."

"This just gets better and better," I muttered under my breath, but I plunged into a new patch of trees, Angus following me anxiously. Something told me he didnae like the smell of Jack.

"Now, is there any way I'd be able to tell it apart from all the vegetation here?" I called back to Jack as I walked between two trees, looking around for it.

"Maybe – keep your voice down…" The white-haired boy kept glancing edgily around himself, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment.

"What's with you?" I demanded, lowering my voice. "You look scared."

"I'm not," he mumbled distractedly. "I just need to get out of here as quick as I can, that's all."

"Mum will probably suggest that you stay in the palace infirmary overnight," I warned him. "So, if you want to leave quick, perhaps you should just find your staff and take off."

"An overnight stay for an arrow in the shoulder?" Jack sounded offended now, and much closer; when I turned, I saw he was only a few paces behind me. "How weak does she think I am?"

"Is it still in your shoulder?" I added. "We should at least get that out before you do anything else…"

"No, it'll be fine. I have no faith in your healing skills?"

"Oh, for God's sake, come here."

"You're not going to snap it out, are you?"

"No. I don't think it pierced anything major, just your shoulder, so I'll pull out the shaft for now, but you really need to get back up to the castle to have the wound properly treated."

"I need to find my staff."

I considered for a moment. "If other people can see your staff, I could send some servants out to find it."

"I don't know if they can," he admitted, sinking down and leaning against the tree trunk. "And I'm afraid they'd accidentally snap it."

I bent down next to him and took his hand, ignoring the cold and inspecting his shoulder. "I don't think it pierced you entirely, so it'll be much easier to get out than I thought…all the same, I think an arrow wound is more important than a staff, and my mum should have said the same, but I don't think she knows how to treat arrow wounds…"

"Do you know how to, then?"

"Of course I do, but unfortunately, we donnae have the items here for proper medical treatment, and my fingernails arenae sharp enough to pass for a knife. We could try using a sharp stone, but that would probably hurt a lot for you, and it would get dirt in the injury, and we cannae have that."

"We need a _knife _for this procedure?" he demanded, looking alarmed.

"Just a little one."

"No, I don't trust—

_Snap._

"Ouch!"

"I just tore out the shaft, you jessie!"

"I have no idea what that means, but it sounds insulting," Jack replied with dignity.

"It is insulting," I assured him. "Now, c'mon. The sooner we find your staff, the sooner you can get back up to the castle and get that out."


End file.
